His Dissent
by Bronze Barrier
Summary: Abby Griffin loves her job, her patients, and more importantly, her daughter. She discovers the meaning of the word "hate" when the hospital hires a cocky lawyer she cannot stand; Marcus Kane... Very Kabby.
1. Chapter 1

**My friends, let me apologize first and foremost for the medical mumbo jumbo that I made up around 2 AM. A lot of the things you will read here are either wrong or ridiculous. This story is created for one purpose, which is Kabby**

 **Furthermore, excuse the grammar mistakes since neither this story nor me as a person is beta-d. I appreciate your future tolerance. Enjoy.**

* * *

Hospitals did _not_ need lawyers.

It was fairly simple. The two professions contradicted each other. One was about saving lives, the other one was about ruining. Doctors -doctors such as herself- were selfless, in this profession purely to help people. Since when had she seen a lawyer that was in it for public service? No, never. They were all after money. That's precisely why she scowled when Jaha walked in her office. Because, she knew what he wanted.

"Abby, it's time."

She lifted her eyes from her computer. Her glasses fell onto the bridge of her nose. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"You can get me a lawyer." Jaha sighed as he plopped down onto one of the chairs in front of her desk with an exasperated look on his face. A look Abby had grown tired of witnessing.

"With or without sugar?"

"This is not a joke; we're way behind on our deadline." Jaha rolled his eyes. "We need to pick someone and hire them, and that's ASAP for you."

Her eyes fell back onto her bright screen. She gazed at the letters, not really paying attention but giving the illusion that nothing was more important than what was on her screen at the moment… patient charts from last month. "So? Pick one."

"You don't want me giving this speech to you again, Abby. We both know you are as tired of hearing it as I am as tired of giving. The new hire has to be approved by both the Chief of Surgery (he spoke knowingly, pointing at himself), and the Chief of Medicine." With that, his gaze landed on her.

"Talk to Callie again, she can handle the load for a little while."

"Like she hasn't been doing that for months already." Jaha crossed his arms and put his feet up on the chair opposite of him. Upon receiving a frown from Abby, he put his feet down. This was her office after all. "Callie might be well in her thirties, but she is just a paralegal. She shouldn't even be advising us." He leaned over and whispered. "It's _illegal_."

"Go ahead and whisper," She leaned in close and whispered, mimicking him, " _FBI might be listening._ "

Abby seemed nonchalant. What was it with her and lawyers? "Abby!"

She jumped in her seat.

"Malpractice suits are piling up!" He put a hand on his forehead. "Mr. Newport is suing me for wrongful amputation."

"For what?!"

"It was supposed to be the other… no, this is irrelevant!" Jaha frowned. How did the conversation get there? "What's relevant is that we'll be in serious trouble if we don't hire a new lawyer soon. We are lucky that we managed to last this long without one since the last one quit."

That was true. Mrs. Humphrey had been a wonderful lady Abby liked having coffee with. However, she had already been working in the hospital even before the damn thing was built, and it was time for her to retire.

"Fine… I'll take care of it, sometime…" She still avoided looking into Thelonious' eyes. What was the point? She was only going to see harsh judgment in them anyway.

" _Now._ " With that, he leaned over and picked up the files from the coffee table in front of him and tossed it over to her desk. She was startled. "I already narrowed it down to five for you. Call them, interview them, I don't care. Hell, I'll interview them with you! Give us a lawyer by the end of the week."

Before Abby could blink, Jaha was leaving. "Wait, Thelonious!"

Nope, too late. He slammed the door behind him. She was on her own.

He could have at least been… politer. She shook her head. Jaha was nice, but he could be a real asshole when he wanted to. But, truth to be told, deep down, she knew she had it coming. Abby Griffin was a woman who was on top of her _shit_ ; never late to work, never made her patients unhappy, and always remembered to pack lunch for her daughter (Not that she needed now that she was in college, her eyes drifted over to the little framed photo of her and Clarke on her high school graduation… how was she? Had she been eating well? She would remember to call her once she was off work.)

She didn't know why she harbored this inherent hate for lawyers. Was it the overly rude lawyer that insisted upon suing the truck driver that caused the death of her husband as she grieved him? Was it the greedy one that tried to scam her as she was closing on the Escrow for her house? Or was it Jack's pervert lawyer friend that touched her ass that one time? It was all of them, she finally decided. Not one lawyer she had met turned out to be nice. Except for Mrs. Humphrey… Well, she _had_ once accused her of a misdiagnosis.

As thoughts raced through her head, she lifted the cover of the file that was resting on the top of the stack. They were all resumes. With a sigh, she picked up the paper and leaned back on her chair.

Audrey Miller. John Brown School of Law. Ehh… Was that good? The only law school she knew was Harvard. She wished the resumes would come with pictures.

Theodore J. Collins. Sounded pretentious. He had never even worked at a hospital before.

Marcus Kane. Whatever, she didn't care.

She tossed the files on the desk and picked up her phone.

#

"Thank you Ms. Miller, I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

Click.

She wasn't. She hated her life. Audrey sounded way more cheerful than she could handle. Her migraine was already acting up. She threw a glimpse at the bottle of aspirin sitting quietly on the corner of her desk. That Theodore person, his existence was enough to put her into a coma. She had never met anyone that dull in her entire life. She hadn't even invited him for an interview. Yes, phone interview was standard, that's what she'd told him. The poor fool had believed it… Sure, like a giant hospital would hire over the phone… As if.

She tossed Audrey's resume aside, and skipped a couple because she didn't like how their name sounded when she said them out loud. Finally, her eyes landed on another one. With a deep sigh, she picked up her phone.

Ring.

Was it only eleven? She was starving.

Ring.

Maybe she could take early lunch.

Ring.

Had she packed a sandwich for today? With a frown, her eyes went to her purse hanging behind the door.

Ring.

Ugh, she hated lawyers. They didn't even pick up their phone. Cocky bastards… What if I was an important client, she thought.

A grumpy, and very _very_ tired sounding voice finally picked up the phone. "…H-hello..?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Hello, is this..." She glanced at the resume to make sure. "...Marcus Kane?"

She heard a sigh. "Yea, one sec," the deep voice said. She heard a groan.

Then giggles. What.

"Sshh, just give me a minute…" She heard the voice said. Her surprise grew stronger. Was he with someone?

Then she heard footsteps, a cat meow, and something... break? Followed by a curse.

"Hi? Hello? Miss? Hello?" The voice was back.

Three seconds into this conversation and she was already beyond irritated. "I'm sorry, is this not a good time?"

"No, this? This is a _great_ time." He coughed. Something about his tone told her it wasn't a _great_ time at all. Speaking of his tone… He indeed had a deep voice. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, I heard…"

"Oh, that's Missy, the building cat." He explained like the most natural thing in the world.

"Does Missy giggle too?" She leaned back against her chair and crossed her legs.

"No, that was… Sally, I think? I didn't catch her name. Is that important? Anyway, how can I help you?"

The nerve on this man. She was seconds away from hanging up the phone and moving onto the next resume. However, after a pause, she found herself speak. "My name is Abby Griffin, I am calling about work actually."

"Yeah, right…" She heard him say, then she heard paper shuffling. He sounded exasperated. Well damn, it wasn't her fault if he didn't like his job. "Is this a personal injury case? How can I help, Abby?"

"It is Dr. Griffin." She corrected him, highly annoyed. She had no idea why this man got her all worked up over the course of thirteen seconds. But, she did _not_ like him one bit. "And, no I'm not suing anyone."

"Being sued? Defense? Always tough." He spoke knowingly.

"Well, no…"

"Expert witness?"

"No… This is-"

"Juror?" Suddenly his voice grew cold (as though it could get any colder), "Look, if this is about the criminal case from last week, I specifically told that judge that I would never tamper with-"

"This is not a guessing game, Mr. Kane." She interrupted him. "My hospital needs you."

"Sounds romantic." He chuckled. He had a nice laugh. Not that it mattered. "Tried Batman yet?"

"This is not a joke. Medical malpractice sounds romantic to you?" She found herself cracking a smile. Then she got mad at herself and stopped.

"Well, something's gotta." He replied. "How can I help you?"

"I… " Wait, what were they talking about again? She faltered… Quick, Oh my God. "I need a lawyer."

"Well, you have me."

I.. what? This conversation was a train wreck. She cleared her throat. "Mr. Kane, my hospital is looking to hire legal staff. We would like it if you were to come in for an interview."

"Me? How did you even find me?"

"You sound like you don't want a job." Her hand subconsciously went to the telephone set. She was dangerously close to hanging up the phone on his face. It would be satisfying, she thought.

"Depends on the job." He replied nonchalantly. Who was he to be nonchalant? She was the only nonchalant person in this conversation… and the planet.

It was best to delve right into the point. She wasn't getting anything done with this man. "I got your resume from my colleague. Our last lawyer retired, so we're on the market for another one; a standard hospital lawyer that would handle our cases."

"A lot of malpractice going on over there?" Then he let out a deep chuckle. "Wrongful amputation?"

"How did you even-"

"It's more common in surgery than you might think." He spoke in a sly tone.

Only then Abby remembered to gaze down at the 'EXPERIENCE' part in his resume. Three hospitals? He had worked in three hospitals before?

"Could you tell me why you got fired from three hospitals?" Yes, she was great at changing the subject. She mentally congratulated herself.

He groaned. She heard paper shuffling, what sounded like a chair squeaking… and a cat meow again. Then she heard him speak. "A lot of doctors don't… Well, let's just say they are not fond of me."

"What makes you think we'd be fond of you then?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I never said that. You're the one calling me, ma'am."

Damn, he was right.

"Do you want this interview or not?" She quickly gathered herself.

"How can I refuse?"

#

"Hahahahahaha, Oh my God, thanks!" Fiona Jenkins giggled. No, more like laughed… No, hollered.

Abby had to cringe so hard that her eyes fell back onto the resume in front of her. Why was this happening to her? She got into medical school to save lives, not deal with bureaucratic bullshit that came in the form of howling women. What had become of this generation? Fiona was what? 25? When had she even finished law school? Did she want some Benzoyl Peroxide for her acne?

From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Jaha. He had a giant, fake smile plastered on his face as he nodded at everything the woman said.

"I know I don't have a lot of experience, but-"

"You don't have _any_ experience." Abby muttered under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"But… I did watch a lot of Grey's Anatomy." Fiona explained, cheerfully. Was this a joke? Where were the cameras?

"That's.. amazing…" Jaha replied. Abby had a feeling Jaha didn't think this was amazing at all. "We'll be in touch."

The woman picked up her bright blue purse, flashed a smile at both of them, and left the room with her pumps clacking on the marble floor.

The minute the door was closed, Abby turned to Jaha, utterly incredulous. Did he really think he would approve of someone like her?

After a pause, Jaha spoke cautiously. "I'll admit, she's a bit… colorful."

"She sounds like a rainbow puked on her… and, that's not a good thing. Vomit is never a good thing." She tossed her resume aside. It had been 24 hours since she was on board with this process, and she was already considering handing in her resignation. Maybe she could move to Norway, buy a little house, grow tomatoes…

"Are you thinking of growing tomatoes again?" Jaha scratched something on his chart.

"Leave me alone."

"Once you approve someone, sure. How about Ted Collins?" Jaha shuffled through the papers until he found his resume.

"Oh, puh-lease, he makes me wanna inject myself with 3.2 mg of Epinephrine and dearly depart from this world." She promised herself she would take lunch after this last interview.

"But… you would die."

She just groaned at Jaha's stupidity before getting up. She was definitely taking early lunch, right after this interview. Angelic thoughts of food raced in her head as her fingers reached for the doorknob. One last interview. Maybe she could even get coffee after. It was still early enough to drown herself in caffeine and not be judged for it.

The second she opened the door, however, she was hit in the face with a loud laughter of a woman. A familiar woman.

She squinted, took a step and looked to her left, and there she saw Fiona (still there), next to a man. A man… a very attractive looking-

She cleared her throat. His brown eyes met hers. Then immediately after, he looked away. What a shame. He turned to the peacock next to her… Sorry, he turned to Fiona J something? What even was her last name? Not that it mattered, Abby was not going to see her again.

"We can pick this up later." He spoke, and Abby froze.

She knew that voice.

"Oh, of course darlin'! Can't wait!" With that she slipped a piece of paper on his jacket pocket, blew a very inappropriate kiss to him, and left… never once forgetting to sway her hips. Not that, he was looking. His interest seemed to disperse the second she was out of his view. Instead, his eyes landed on Abby. She felt chills running down her spine, her hand still gripping the door knob.

"Marcus Kane." He introduced himself with half a smile.

"What did she give you?" She found herself asking, without giving it a second thought. Her curiosity got the best of her.

"Hm?" He seemed lost for a second, before coming to a halt. Then he remembered, and reached for his pocket. "I'm not sure… Her number, I think."

"And that's appropriate how?" She frowned.

"It's not." He shrugged, put the paper back in his pocket, and walked in.

He was already seated by the time she gathered herself and walked back into the room, closing the door after her with an insecure click. She could see Jaha throw him a pleasant smile. What was up with him? Who did he think he was? This stranger acted like he could charm anyone.

"Thank you for coming in." Jaha nodded.

"It's my pleasure." He replied.

Abby did a little mock imitation of his last words, relying on the fact that she was still standing behind him by the door. It didn't go unnoticed by Jaha who threw her a warning glance. Rolling her eyes, she walked over to him and took a seat next to her colleague.

Did the word "sharp" have an opposite? Messy? No, this man was not quite messy, and the only thing sharp about him was his gaze on the both of them. The rest of him was… slightly unkempt. A little bit more and she would characterize him as borderline chaotic. His rich red tie (not an expensive one from the looks of it) rested right under his two-week old stubble. His hair looked like he had postponed his last week's hairdresser appointment. His clothes looked nice, but worn out. Overall, he seemed like he was off by two weeks. That was it… Two weeks ago, this man would have looked a-okay.

"A friend of mine recommended you." Jaha spoke (Really, why hadn't he tell her that? She was always kept in the dark in this hospital.) "Said you were a pain in the ass to work with, but could win cases."

A smirk appeared on Marcus' lips and his gaze momentarily fell onto the ground before finding Jaha again. "Is that a compliment, then?"

"Certainly. We tolerate difficult people well here." With that Jaha's eyes fell on Abby.

She frowned and did a double take. Excuse me? "Well, I-"

"What bring you to this town?" Jaha spoke quickly, interrupting her approaching denial.

"My kids." He replied, confident, as though he knew this question was coming and had answered it automatically many times in the past. "The older one started college in a city nearby, and I heard the high schools here were good for the younger one."

Two kids? Dear, lord, how did he manage? Abby could barely take care of one. Speaking of kids… Was he married? Who was Sally then?

"Abby!"

"Hmm?"

"I said, doesn't Clarke go that college as well?" Jaha nudged her on the shoulder, then flashed a grand smile at Marcus like a housewife who wanted her husband to impress the guests.

"Oh…" She cleared her throat. "Yes, she is a sophomore. They grow up so fast." Who had the automated responses now? Hah, I beat you Marcus Kane.

"My name is Thelonious Jaha, I am the Chief of Surgery here. Abby here is the Chief of Medicine. We're pleased to have you. Have you worked in a hospital before?"

"Three times. Each one of them was a different experience, neither good nor bad."

God, she hated his grammar. "Why do you think we should hire you?" She found herself asking. Good, cut right to the chase. Be confident.

When their eyes locked, he squinted a little as if he was attempting to look deep into her soul. The act itself was eerie. "What is your last case?"

"It's not a case yet-"Jaha started until he was interrupted.

"That wrongful amputation right? Mrs. Griffin mentioned on the phone."

Shit. Jaha turned to her with an incredulous look. No, she hadn't! He had guessed! This wasn't Salem, why was she being burned alive?

"What was it? Hand? Finger? Leg?... Balls?"

"It was the patient's thumb." Jaha replied, sulking a little. Abby knew this was going to have an impact on his precious surgical career.

"Was he conscious when he was brought in? Drugged?"

"Well, we had to sedate him for the pain, of course."

"Nurse administered it, I suppose. What was it? Lorazepem?"

How did he know that? Abby saw Jaha nod.

"And I assume you wanted conscious sedation. Who took his history? The same nurse?"

Jaha nodded again, frantically this time. Abby could see the mental pain he was in trying to keep up with the lawyer in front of him.

Marcus smiled like he had found gold in an abandoned beach. He leaned forward. "Then the only question left is; how much do you value this nurse?"

"You're hired!"

"Thelonious!" Abby found herself crying out. Why had he even put her through the process of incredible boredom to approve lawyers if he was just gonna hire one before even consulting her? She hated lawyers, but as of that moment, she hated surgeons more. Did they even have brains?"

Marcus chuckled. "Your colleague might not be so sure."

"Well, hold on a minute…" The hell with Thelonious, she was gonna handle this herself. He was still too dazed to come up with a response. "Are you really that willing to point the finger at a poor nurse and destroy her life?"

"Litigation is all about pointing fingers. Also, who says we'll win?" He shrugged, leaning back into his chair.

"You just did." She frowned.

"No, I just told you your defense. You need a plan, not a psychic who has the answers on a possible impleader action."

"Well, shouldn't a good lawyer tell us if we'll win or not?" She leaned forward on the desk. His eyes glimmered with deceit and trickery; two things Abby had never possessed in her entire life. The closest she had been to a man like Marcus was when she watched her TV shows Saturday nights with a glass of wine abandoned on her half dusty nightstand.

"A bad lawyer will tell you that you will win. I don't work with false hope. I give you your strategy and my prediction."

"And what is your prediction?"

He finally turned to look at Jaha. Brutal honesty clouded his features. "He's liable. You're fucked." He shrugged, "and… don't worry about the nurse, the hospital will end up paying her attorney's fees. Isn't that what giant corporations are for?"

The nerve on this man! "This hospital is here to save lives!"

He did not believe her; she could see it in his eyes. He was one of those people that Abby knew so well… One of those cynics who thought hospitals were just means to an end in the hopes of capitalism and abusing the poor. How many times those clickbait articles had showed up in her Facebook newsfeed? "The cure for cancer has been found, the government doesn't want you to know it because they want you to keep paying money. What happens next will shock you."

However, he let it go. She didn't know whether to be furious with him for being… the way he was, or for the fact that he refused to argue with her about the issue. Her eyes found Jaha's again. Maybe, just maybe, if she believed hard enough, she could telepathically communicate to Jaha how much she hated this man, and how much she didn't want him in her hospital.

Just try… Be your own Jean Grey.

"When can you start?" Jaha asked enthusiastically, ignoring her.

Well, shit.

* * *

 **I don't have any plans for this story nor I had any when I first started. This is something I coughed up when I was feeling a little alone last night, and had my laptop to keep me company. Let me warn you... because I am a law student, there will come a time where I will probably abandon this story and you will hate me for it. Until then, feel free to encourage me to continue since I am running low on inspiration and caffeine. Merci.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I now have a pretty good idea as to where this story is going. You're going to hate me...**

* * *

Two weeks were short enough to those who counted.

Two weeks were 14 tiny days to a prisoner awaiting bail, to a wife waiting for her husband to come home, to a girlfriend waiting to see her boyfriend. To those, life broke down to tiny little intervals that ended right after the other. The point that the author is trying to make here is that… they were short.

But to Abby… Those two weeks were the longest days of her life. Because, it had been exactly two weeks -minus the weekends, thank the Gods (both old and new)- since Marcus Kane inhabited her precious workplace.

She saw him everywhere and nowhere. She would go a whole day thinking she had managed to dodge him, but he would bump into her the second she made a right turn in a godforsaken hallway. She would apologize, evade his gaze and be on her way. Somedays, she would just _not_ stop seeing him. He would be in the adjoining table in the cafeteria, walking to the bathroom and thus passing by her office, or saying hello to a few patients that she treated… Or sometimes it would be worse; she would hear about him from one of the nurses. Gossip circulated fast in the hospital, and it seemed he had charmed all the ladies. Abby could never understand that… There was nothing impressive about Marcus Kane.

Well, sure sometimes they would lock eyes and she would feel electricity jolting through her veins…. but that could have also been because he was new and she was not. His presence had brought forth something afresh to her workplace that went stale every passing day. Patients walked in, and they walked out. There was nothing new about constant change of faces… But no new face came here to stay. Except for Marcus.

Those were her thoughts as she cautiously made her way to the nurse's station with an automated smile on her lips.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She looked up to see the new resident Raven standing by the nurse's station, throwing her a big grin.

"Oh… I was just thinking about Mr. Denzel in bed four." Lies. Pure and utter lies.

"Upset about his new medication?" The girl spoke knowingly. Raven had also done her internship there so despite her new status as a resident, she was not new to the hospital.

"As always. That guy has been in an out of this place more times than I can count."

"Yeah… You'd think at his age, he'd stop flirting." The girl let out of a chuckle before changing the subject. "Any plans for Christmas?"

Oh… Christmas. The only thing Abby looked forward to about Christmas was having her baby girl home. They chatted, went shopping, and Abby watched the happiness in her eyes as she gave her her gifts. Couple of weeks later she wouldn't see her again until Spring Break.

"No yet… Just waiting for Clarke to come home." She sighed. "How about you?"

"Me and a few other residents are going out for dinner- oh shit."

"What?"

"Look who's coming…"

Abby turned her head to follow Raven's gaze. However, the minute she made eye contact with him she froze and immediately turned around. This was a nightmare.

"Tell me," Raven started with a smile playing her lips, the rest of her sentence was barely above a whisper. "Were you aiming for the hottest lawyer in the country, or was it just a coincide?"

"Hmm...? The hottest who?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about." Raven wiggled her eyebrows before throwing a look at all the nurses by the station. Upon following her gaze, Abby saw three women fake fanning themselves to indicate exactly how attractive the new lawyer was. She would have cracked a smile, but she didn't.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed…" Raven bit her lip.

"Nope, no idea what you're talking about." Had she noticed? Well, maybe… a little. But his looks were irrelevant to his manners. He was still an arrogant bastard.

"Lying doesn't suit you, Abby."

"It's Dr. Griffin to you." No, it wasn't. Abby let Raven call her by her first name all the time. But at the moment, she needed to gain some authority and she needed it now. "And I don't lie. Business is business. I don't care what he looks like as long as he does his job."

Marcus was standing beside them in a matter of seconds, and only then Abby saw the furious look in his eyes. Raven was way too fascinated by him to notice.

"My office, now." Marcus addressed her with a tone of voice that indicated that he was not in the mood for games. Good, Abby thought, he is actually on top of his work.

"You don't have an office yet." Abby quipped.

"Your office then." He wouldn't budge. What did he even want?

"Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it in front of my colleagues. They're respected people who deserve to-"

He interrupted her idealist speech by shoving a piece of yellow envelope in her face. "What's this?"

Shit. She had forgotten the thingy…

"How long has this been sitting on Callie's desk?" He hissed. "Were you hoping that it would file itself? Cause I got news for you Abby, American Jurisprudence does not accept pleadings filed by the pleadings themselves. They require that an actual human being does it!"

Her eyes wide with terror, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him down the hall. She was not going to have the whole hospital witness this show. She had a reputation to keep. She also managed to ignore Raven's sarcastic whistle.

Once they were in her office and she practically tossed him inside, she threw one last glance at the hallway to make sure that no one had seen her manhandle their new lawyer. With a relief, she shut the door and faced the fury that was his eyes.

"I repeat, how long has this been sitting on Callie's desk?"

"Two weeks?" She winced. He did have a point. She was going to get to it eventually… but her mind had a way of blocking the memory of things she dreaded doing. She crossed the room and sat behind her desk.

"You have twenty-one days to answer once you're served with a lawsuit, or else they can sanction you. Are you out of your mind? Who ignores a lawsuit?" He fumed, pacing up and down her office.

"People who are busy running hospitals!" She finally retorted, not as angry but slowly feeling herself getting there. Who was he to yell at her in front of people? Besides… wasn't she his boss?

"Guess what? If you lose this one, you might not even need to run this hospital anymore." He finally stopped pacing and approached her desk. "This is a wrongful death suit. How can you ignore it?"

"Well…" She tried to find a way to change the subject. "We get those suits all the time. Aren't you a lawyer? Defend me."

Marcus let out a deep sigh before taking a seat in front of her desk. "I don't represent you, I represent this hospital."

"Go yell at the emergency room then, leave me alone." She turned to her computer and started opening and closing files hoping to give him the illusion of work.

"Depends, are there smarter people there?"

"Sure, there should be a guy with a stick up his ass in bed three. I'm sure you two would get along just fine." She retorted. "Is there another reason you're here or do you waste time as a personally hobby?"

"Yes, I mean, no." He frowned. Good, she liked getting under his skin. Not that it gave her any thrill or anything…

"You need to fire the maintenance guy on the second floor."

"What maintenance guy?"

"That old guy that keeps mopping the same spot… the janitor guy." He explained patiently.

"Mr. Morton?" She finally spoke up in disbelief. "He is sixty-three! I can't just fire him!"

"That's why you should fire him. He is old, he can't keep up with it. He forgot to put a sign up, and I saw two people slip and fall. I also heard he made a pass at a few visitors. He is a liability."

"He does a good job."

With that Marcus reached under her desk and pulled out her trashcan. As he held it up, Abby saw that it was filled to the brim.

"He tries to do a good job." She altered her previous statement.

"Like you, you mean?"

"Marcus, get out of my office this instant." She had no idea when they switched to a first name basis but it felt right scolding him that way. Only if she knew his middle name, then she could really get his attention.

"With pleasure." He grunted, stood up and walked out, leaving nothing but his cologne behind. It smelled fresh, clean, and something musky. Sandalwood? Not that she cared. She shook her head. _Go away thought._

In that moment Abby made herself a promise; she was going to ignore this man until her death.

#

The hospital might have been warm and cozy but a snow storm was beginning to show its face within town walls. Abby did a quick mental check of her shopping list as she put on her coat and tidied up her desk. Being the chief came with its perks; for instance, she could leave this place the minute clocks hit 5 pm. However, given that Abby was married to her work, she usually chose not to. Besides, now that Clarke was gone, there was nothing awaited her back home. Her office was her home.

Today was what one would call an exception. Clarke would be home by the end of the week and she had to start preparing. As she picked up her purse, her phone rang.

"Clarke, honey, I was just thinking about you!" With a smile, she walked out of her office and locked it carefully. The hallway was emptier compared to the earlier hours of the day.

"Hey mom, how's everything?"

"It's good. I'm just leaving work. You will be here this weekend, right?" She spoke as she made her way down the hall. She made a mental note to be careful since it was snowing outside and she was wearing her favorite heels. A couple of nurses nodded at her direction and she mouthed them goodbye.

"Yeah, I will leave here Friday night. The drive shouldn't take more than a few hours." Her daughter replied.

Abby approached the big entrance door of the hospital. She watched the snow for a moment before tightening the expensive coat around her. "Clarke, please be careful. It's snowing real bad up here, and I want you to drive safe. That means no phone calls, no texting, and no music! You always start day dreaming whenever you hear music."

Clarke let out a laugh. "Fine, fine. No phone calls, no texting, no music!"

Abby pushed the double doors open and walked out. "Done with finals yet?" Cold air hit her face, and she shivered.

"Yeah. Mom, I gotta tell you something."

"What is it?" Her car was parked at the other end of the half empty parking lot. 5 pm was the end of a shift for most people and they couldn't wait to get out of the hospital. Wind was blowing stronger than ever.

"I… met someone."

"Oh?" The concrete was covered with ice. She just had to be careful. With a sigh, she directed her attention back to her daughter. "What kind of someone?"

"He is a freshman here. We've been seeing each other for a couple of months now."

"A couple of mon- Ah!" With that her heel landed on a particularly slippery part of the ice and before she knew it, she let out a yelp. Her purse flew out of her hands, and she struggled to keep her balance. Just as she thought she was going to slip and crack her head open, a warm pair of hands held onto her waist and steadied her.

"Mom, you okay?" Clarke asked with panic in her voice.

"I…" Abby immediately turned around only to crash into her rescuer's chest. Then, she managed to look up.

Oh my God.

"I'm fine…" She managed to utter, more to him than to her daughter. What was happening? She panicked. Why did she always end up finding herself in embarrassing situations? With Marcus Kane nonetheless? She couldn't wait to get to her car and hit her head against the steering wheel at least five times.

Marcus remained stoic. It was damn near impossible to read what was on his mind. Seconds later his hands let go of her, and she mentally kicked herself for missing the warmth. Before she could say anything, he reached down and picked up her purse.

"Ok good…" Clarke continued. "So this guy, I really want you to meet him."

"You do?" Abby managed to choke out as she took her purse back from Marcus. Words wouldn't leave her mouth… Was she supposed to say thank you or fuck you? Well, not the latter now that he had practically saved her from a serious injury.

"Yes, he majors in International Relations. I think you'd like him." Clarke was oblivious to the life or death situation her mother was currently facing.

Without a word, Marcus handed her a card and nodded, before walking away. Oh, great… So, he doesn't talk to me either, Abby thought. Why were men like this? "I'm sure I would."

Her eyes fell onto the card. David Sanders ESQ, Sanders & Associates. She turned the card around. _"I can't represent you. Conflict of Interest. Call him, he's a friend."_

"So…" Abby swallowed, utterly flabbergasted by what had just taken place. "When am I meeting him?"

"I was thinking we could have dinner Saturday night."

#

This was good.

They were establishing a pattern. After the parking lot incident, it seemed as though Marcus decided to avoid her. First, she was curious, but then she realized it was her dream come true. After she'd spent the entire morning of the following day, worried sick that he was going to show up out of nowhere and rub the incident in her face, she realized that he was not retaliating. Relieved, she spent the rest of her Thursday more at ease than ever. It was as though sun was shining again.

After a few rounds, she finally made her way into Mr. Denzel's room. "How are we feeling today?"

"Better now that my favorite doctor is here." The old man smiled the minute she came into his view.

She picked up her chart. "I see the meds are working well, I was thinking of getting you started on some-"

Suddenly a familiar voice spoke up from behind her. "You need to fire the janitor."

Abby turned around, only to see Marcus-God-forsaken-Kane leaning against the doorway with a knowing look on his face. Great… just as she thought she had dodged the bullet. His jacket was off, and he wore a white shirt with a dark blue tie that hung loose just a few inches below his neck. He had rolled up his sleeves which overall made him look like he had an especially tiring day. She turned her back to him. "I believe we already had this discussion. Alzheimer is a serious disease, don't ignore it."

"Hilarious. You know what else is also real funny? Mr. Morton just slapped a nurse's… behind."

Abby froze. Mr. Denzel laughed. Marcus just stood there, his gaze piercing holes into Abby's back. "Just… give me a minute."

"The guy is eighty seven-"

"Sixty-three." She corrected him, putting the patient's chart back.

"His name is Mort." He continued.

" _Morton._ " She corrected him once more.

"Let him retire and die in peace already!"

With that both of their eyes landed on Mr. Denzel who threw them an incredulous look. Mortified, Abby stormed out of his room, dragging Marcus with her. That's when she smelled his cologne again, this time mixed with his own sweat.

"You can't just say that in front of the patients!" She barked at him once they were in the hall.

"There is one sentence that makes my heart skip a beat, Abby. One sentence, three words. And no, it's not 'I love you'." He stepped closer to her.

Upon hearing him say those words, her heart faltered in her chest, and she lost focus for a split second.

"It's 'I'll sue you'. Do you know when was the last time I heard those words? Five minutes ago, in the lobby, from the same nurse that just got sexually assaulted by your janitor. You don't want to argue with me on this." He hissed, keeping his voice low. It was as though he created a private little world for them with his tone… just to argue.

"What are you worried about? I thought you represented the hospital, not the employees." She threw his earlier words back at him.

"We can still be liable!" He practically snarled. " _You_ can be liable for being aware of his conduct, and still not firing him. It's called enabling."

"I'll think about it." She tried brushing him off.

"Sure, should I come back before or after the rape charge?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That's what's going to happen if you don't listen to me. Tell me, why did you hire a lawyer if you're not going to take legal advice? Be honest, is it my eyes? My smile?" He took another step towards her. There it was… The cologne again. Not that she was keeping track.

"Don't flatter yourself." She scoffed, though she found herself strangely drawn to both his eyes and his smile… Not that she had witnessed him smile at her. He usually smiled at the nurses. "The entire hospital might think you're attractive, but I don't."

"Then more firing, less staring!"

"I don't… stare…" She managed to choke out, before collecting her thoughts. "You're talking to the Chief of Medicine. As you might have noticed with Mr. Morton, I get to decide who lives or dies here, quite literally! So, I suggest you start showing some respect!"

He finally managed to take a step back, but did not stop his attack. "I will show my respect once you show me that you can handle your responsibilities. You let a paralegal run the legal department for months!"

She scoffed. "So? At least she wasn't an arrogant bastard with anger management issues! Would you like the name of Jaha's therapist? Might help you with your mommy issues!"

"I'm not the one who needs a shrink." He finally spat out after a beat.

"I hope you get disbarred!" She retorted, crossing her arms in front of her merely to hide her shaking hands. She took deep breaths to control her anger. Damn this man and every single thing about him.

"You know what, the timing of Christmas couldn't have been more perfect… It's going to be _heaven_ not seeing you around for a while." He clenched his jaw, and she lost focus once again.

"Likewise." With that, she turned around and disappeared into Mr. Denzel's room, slamming the door behind her. Not that she needed to be in his room, but a dramatic exit was a must after what had just taken place.

She couldn't believe it. But God, she had known it all along… Marcus Kane was a disgusting excuse of a human being. She had sensed it right from the start. Her hands still shook from fury. She just needed a break from work.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine." She swallowed. "I'll send a nurse to go over the instructions for your new medication. Hope you feel better."

She wasn't being very attentive, but Mr. Denzel was the last person she could care about right now. She cracked the door open. After making sure that he was gone, she walked out and headed for her office. She kept a flask of honey whiskey in her bottom drawer for emergencies.

#

Friday was uneventful.

Abby had exchanged a couple hatred fueled glances with Marcus. Lucky for her, he didn't linger anywhere near her more than necessary. His presence gave her chills, and she managed to convince herself that it was not the good kind. She just closed her eyes, focused on her work, and looked forward to her daughter coming home that very evening. The hospital was filled with the holiday cheer, and the more she looked at Christmas decorations, the better she felt.

Snow had gotten worse, and it had taken Clarke an extra hour to reach home. They had spent the evening catching up. Clarke had told her all about her semester and her new boyfriend. Abby had told her all about the hospital. They had decorated the tree together and put up a few decorations.

"How's Raven?" Clarke had asked.

"She's very… Raven." Abby had chuckled as she sipped her tea.

"Is everything okay with you?"

"Huh?"

"Well… You seem kinda off." Clarke could always tell when something was bothering her mom.

"Oh… It's nothing. We hired a new lawyer and he's being a pain in my ass, that's all." And that was it on Marcus. Clarke hadn't asked any more questions, and Abby hadn't been willing to ruin her evening by talking about the man she couldn't stop thinking about. He might have invaded her mind, but she did not allow him invading this conversation with her daughter.

Clarke's new friend was also back in town for Christmas. They had scheduled dinner for Saturday night like she wanted. Clarke had been ecstatic.

Abby was given instructions. The dinner was that night, she had already suggested that she'd host. She figured she would feel more comfortable meeting this boy in her own home. Then Clarke had suggested they would invite his family as well. He had a sister and a father. The mother was out of the picture. Clarke had already met the sister once, said she was very fun but a little mischievous. Abby didn't mind, this was supposed to be a Christmas dinner after all, more the merrier.

"Do you need help?" Clarke yelled from upstairs as Abby continued to chop vegetables. The house was fully decorated now. Abby had even hung a little mistletoe in the living room for the kids. The fireplace was lit.

"Come set the table when you're ready!" Abby yelled back, keeping an eye on the window. Snow fall was turning into a storm and she briefly wondered if they should have scheduled this dinner for Sunday. She just hoped they could find the house okay.

Clarke came downstairs to show Abby her outfit. "Too much?"

Grey dress with black flats. She looked cozy. "Perfect." Abby replied with a smile before handing her the plates. She herself also had gone for a cozy look; red sweater with jeans. She had let her hair down; a drastic change from the usual braid she wore for work. The house was already beginning the smell like turkey. Both the living and the dining room were dimly lit.

Half an hour later the dinner was almost ready, and Abby heard a car coming to a halt in front of her house. Her hand was immediately on the window curtains, though all she could see in the dark were three figures –two of them taller than the other- trying to make their way to the door through the snow. Clarke was already by the other window with a giant smile on her face.

"I'll get it!" She jumped from her seat and ran to the door, opening it without waiting for it to ring. "Bellamy! So glad you could make it!"

Abby heard a young man speak. She dried her hands as she hurriedly made her way to the door. She caught a glimpse of Bellamy who was just as handsome as Clarke had described. Clarke looked ecstatic. Bellamy's sister followed him in.

"Octavia! Hi!" Clarke cheered, giving her a hug. Despite her age, the girl had strikingly beautiful, green eyes. She gave her a smile.

"Mrs. Griffin, let me introduce you to my father." Bellamy spoke.

When Abby took a step forward, the older man came into her view. Except… he was familiar… Oddly familiar.

He took a step. They made eye contact. Abby gasped.

"You!"

* * *

 **Ok who hates me? Lemme see the hands. Leave a comment on your way out!**


	3. Chapter 3

One second had passed, and yet it felt like three days.

"Bellamy, we're leaving." Marcus' voice was powerful. There was no room for arguments.

"What? Why?" Bellamy turned to him, utterly confused. Two men made eye contact, but Marcus refused to grant his son an explanation.

Abby was busy taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. How was this possible? She did a quick mental check of everything Clarke had told her about the family. Just moved to town… Two kids, one in college, one in high school… Mom out of the picture, dad was a lawyer. He had just started work…

 _Dad was a lawyer._ That's what should have tipped her off. She mentally kicked herself for not realizing it sooner. The night was over, Clarke was going to be so disappointed.

However, one girl changed the entire course of the night.

"You can leave, I'm staying. I smell turkey." Octavia shrugged before walking inside like she did not have a single care in the world. Clarke was right, mischief flowed out of this girl like boiling water forgotten on a stove.

"Octavia!" Marcus called out, taking another step, thus finding himself right by the doorway. This was his purgatory. "For once in your life listen to your father! I said, we're leaving!"

"Wow, Ms. Griffin, you have a beautiful tree…" Octavia remarked instead, admiring the Christmas tree. She was oblivious to her father's desperate attempts to get her attention.

"God damn it." Marcus grunted.

"Bellamy, what's happening?" Clarke stepped closer to her boyfriend in confusion.

"Beats me." The boy shrugged, his gaze going back and forth between the two adults who were busy throwing each other spiteful looks. The tension was real. "Dad?"

"What's going on is that…" Marcus finally spoke. "I work with Abby."

"You work _for_ me." Abby corrected him. Then she turned to her daughter. "He's… the lawyer I was talking about earlier."

"What? The one that was a pain in your ass?" Clarke let out a chuckle.

"The pain in what?" Marcus chimed in with a frown.

Abby rolled her eyes. Was he really about to start? Right there? "Oh, shut up."

"So, she's the doctor who finally hired you?" Octavia walked back towards the small crowd with a grin. "If it weren't for her, you would have been doing your little 'solo practice' which is code for I sleep during the day and pick up girls from bars at night."

"Octavia!" Marcus practically yelled, eyes wide with horror. Abby bit her lip to hide an unexpected laugh. Octavia kept her stare on Abby as though she hadn't even noticed the mini mental breakdown her father was currently having.

"What?" The girl finally turned to him. "I can hear you from my bedroom."

"Bellamy?" Marcus looked at Bellamy for help. "Could you say something to your sister?"

Bellamy looked at his father. Then he looked at his sister who threw him a menacing look. Then he looked down to the ground, deep in thought. Seconds later, he lifted his head, his gaze finally finding Abby's. "The dinner smells amazing, Ms. Griffin."

With that he took off his coat and walked inside.

"Traitor…" Marcus scoffed.

In that moment Abby realized something; Marcus was an entirely different person when it came to his kids. His usual arrogance and ego had melted away, and all that was left was a loving father who was soft and pliant with his kids. She stifled another giggle. Truth to be told, she had been utterly mortified when she found out that Marcus was the father of Bellamy. However, now that she had witnessed a brief interaction, she wanted nothing more than to invite them in, get to know his kids, and torture him endlessly about it.

Her own change of heart caught her off guard. It was as though a new portal had opened into the world of Marcus Kane.

"Not funny." Marcus finally addressed Abby. With slumped shoulders and embarrassed eyes, the cocky man that was yelling at her a day ago had been defeated… and it had been the most glorious battle of all.

"No, it's not funny." Abby nodded seriously. "It's hilarious."

Clarke giggled. "Would you like to come in Mr. Kane?"

Only then Abby realized Marcus was still by the doorway, letting the cold air in. Why did he have to make everything so difficult?

Upon hearing Clarke address him, Abby could see his features soften again. So maybe he was like that with all kids. And yet, he paused, looking at Abby.

"It's just one night." Abby shrugged. "I don't want the food to go to waste."

"Yess!" Clarke cheered, giving her mom a brief hug. "Thanks, mom!" With that, she ran to the living room to join her friends.

"I'm sorry," Marcus spoke once she was gone. He took a step inside and Abby reached around him to close the door. "If I had known…"

"If you'd known what? You would have made your son break up with my daughter?"

"Well… no." He rolled his eyes, taking off his jacket. "But I would at least be… cautious."

The familiar scent of his cologne reached her nose once again. She inhaled it under the pretense of breathing. The faint laughter of their kids could be heard from the background. She could also smell her freshly baked turkey. Dinner was getting cold. They stood there for a moment, long enough for Abby to feel Marcus' anxiety. She reached out her hand.

"Hm?" He raised one eyebrow.

"Your coat." She wanted to give him a warm smile but restrained herself. Besides, just because he was cute with his kids didn't mean he was forgiven for everything he had said to her for the past week. For all she knew, he was going to go back to being the same old pain in the ass once the Christmas break was over.

"Oh, right." He handed her his long black coat, the kind that TV lawyers wore. She briefly wondered if he watched those law shows that made the legal world seem so exciting. Probably not, she thought; Marcus did not look like he thought the world was exciting.

He also handed her his red scarf. Iconic. You'd think men wouldn't care about their appearance, then you would see a well-dressed lawyer that left you in awe. Abby was glad at least this part of him was TV-like. He wore black pants with a black button-down shirt. His hair was semi combed, white snow still remaining on it.

"You found the house okay?" Small talk. You got this, Abby. They made their way into the living room after she hung his coat.

"Yeah, I uhm… like this road. The houses look nice." It was true. Nearly all of them were lit with red and green lights.

She nodded. The living room was warmer. She could hear the fire crackling. Bellamy and Clarke sat next to each other on the couch. Octavia sat crossed legged on one of the arm chairs. Marcus' presence brought a whole new kind of aura to her home.

"Honestly," Octavia spoke once the adults were in the room. "I can't thank you enough for hiring him. Once he's sitting at home long enough, he starts bothering me."

"Octavia!" Marcus scolded her, not that she cared…

"What the difference?" Abby shrugged. "Now he's bothering me at work."

The kids laughed as Marcus threw her an incredulous look. The snow was beginning to melt into his dark brown hair. "I thought we were being nice to each other tonight."

"I never said that."

"It's implied." He groaned.

She shrugged again, he hadn't much power left over her now that she had seen his true colors. "Who's hungry?"

#

"Could use a little more salt…"

Abby set the wine bottle on the table so hard that Bellamy jumped in his seat. Octavia just grimaced at what her father had just said.

"Oh, I'm sorry Gordon Ramsay!" Abby retorted. "Next time you can take six hours out of your weekend and cook a turkey."

"Please don't let him." Octavia snickered.

"It's just constructive criticism." Marcus leaned back against his chair. With a smile, he reached for his wine glass knowing he was finally under her skin. So that was it on their truce. The semi hostile and playful comments flew back and forth since the minute they sat down. Some made her feel mad, some made her feel like pinning him against the wall and have her- No, not that.

"That no one asked for." Abby kept her gaze directly on him. She was sitting directly opposite from him (It was Clarke's idea). Her daughter was beside her as Bellamy sat next to Marcus, facing his girlfriend. Octavia was at the end of the table, overlooking the whole scene like some kind of a queen. She had to fight Bellamy over the seat.

"So…" Clarke cleared her throat, eager to change the subject. "How's work going for you guys?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

Both of them spoke at the same time. Abby's gaze found Marcus' again as though she was mad at him for reading her mind.

"Your mother tries her very best." Marcus addressed Clarke mockingly, though his eyes never left Abby's. A smirk played his lips as though he communicated with her through his gaze. _Your move._

"Your father is a bit lost." Abby addressed Bellamy, all the while staring at Marcus.

"Is it because he's new at the job?" Bellamy laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"No… he's just lost." Abby replied with a cold voice.

"Ookay…" Clarke looked back down at her food.

"My father's used to doctors." Bellamy tried helping her girlfriend. The tension needed elimination. "He worked in three different hospitals before."

"Why? Can't keep a job?" Abby smirked, as she also reached for her wine glass. This was her second. Maybe she should have been slowing down. But Marcus was already finishing his second, and she had every intention to keep up.

"No, I just hate doctors." Marcus replied.

"Feeling's mutual."

Another awkward silence took over the dinner table. Bellamy and Clarke made eye contact, communicating all their thoughts in one single look. Both seemed panicked. It had been nearly an hour since the evening had commenced, and so far, two adults were not making it easier.

Abby did not want to disappoint her daughter. She knew how much Clarke had been looking forward to this dinner. Angry at herself for being so childish, she poked her turkey with her fork. It was so difficult to be nice to Marcus when he was such a dick. Her eyes met his once again. He threw her a mocking smile to which she responded with equal forte.

"Maybe you should tell us how you started dating." Octavia was the one to break the silence.

Marcus swallowed hard in surprise. "Abby and I are not…"

"I meant Bellamy and Clarke." Octavia replied with an amused look on her face. Marcus immediately blushed. It was a good time for him to take a long sip from his glass of wine and look away. Abby ignored the little flutter in her chest.

"Oh, haha," Clarke started. "We met in orientation. I was showing the freshmen around, Bellamy was part of my group."

"So, Clarke." Marcus put down his knife, leaning against the table. "What do you study?"

"My major is Biology. Hopefully I'll start med school once I graduate." Clarke beamed. "I heard Bellamy also wants to do law school. I'm sure he'll be very successful."

"Following the parents' footsteps… Boring." Octavia declared. "Me and my dad agreed that I'm gonna start working at a tattoo parlor once I finish high school."

"No, we didn't." Marcus glared at her.

Octavia leaned in and whispered to the rest. "He doesn't know it yet. It's a secret."

"Octavia. You'll go to college." He groaned. It seemed as though they had this conversation a million times before. Abby could feel stress oozing out of him. He stopped eating.

"Nu-uh." The young girl laughed. "Can I have some wine?"

"I'm sure your father would like you to get a college education first before you open your own tattoo parlor." Abby finally chimed in, her maternal instincts taking over. "Owning a business is tough, how else will you manage your finances?"

Octavia paused.

"Ms. Griffin is right, O." Bellamy spoke. "I doubt you'll be able to manage a place with freshman year algebra."

"Well… I hadn't thought of it that way." She slumped her shoulders. "Guess I'll consider it."

Now it was Marcus' turn to be baffled. He blinked a few times, his gaze going back and forth between the two siblings. "We've been having this discussion for months, but Abby says one thing and suddenly you're convinced?"

"Well... She's got a point." Octavia shrugged.

Abby gave the girl a warm smile who returned it. She watched her take a bite out of her turkey. When she looked up, she saw Marcus eyeing her curiously. Suddenly self-conscious, her hand went to her glass. He mouthed her something. _'Thank you.'_

She nodded in return. "And you'll make a wonderful lawyer, Bellamy."

"Thank you, Ms. Griffin." The young boy beamed.

After a beat of silence, Octavia spoke again. "Dad, why can't you date someone like Ms. Griffin?"

What.

Marcus' eyes widened in surprised and he suddenly started coughing, choking on his turkey. "I don't …" He tried speaking in between coughs. "I don't… know what you mean."

Abby reached for the pitcher and poured him a glass of water, equally confused. She figured if she looked down at her plate long enough she could hide her blush. This whole line of topic mortified her to the core. "I'm sure she was joking."

"I'm not." Octavia replied, crossing her legs even at the dinner table. "He usually has horrible taste in women. Did he tell you about Aurora?"

"Who's Aurora?" Abby found herself asking. Marcus shook his head violently. _No, not that question._ It was too late.

"Aurora is our mom." Bellamy replied with a shrug. "She walked out on us when we were pretty young. We don't remember much about her, dad has been taking care of us by himself ever since."

Abby suddenly felt incredibly guilty for asking. She didn't know whether both kids were so used to the trauma, or if it had happened way too long ago for them to remember, but they were completely unbothered by it. They looked like they accepted reality a long time ago, leaving their father alone to deal with the aftermath. Abby's eyes met Marcus's. Sadness clouded his features momentarily. He took a deep breath, shook his head and seconds later he was back to normal.

She bit down on her lower lip. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"We're used to it." Bellamy replied. "This turkey tastes really good, Ms. Griffin."

"Oh, thank you." Abby was taken aback. The kids really were used to it. Marcus was the lone carrier of a burden which clearly still had its influence on him.

When he found a convenient silence, he used it for his escape. He picked up the nearest napkin to wipe his mouth, grabbed his plate and glass, and headed for the kitchen with a barely audible 'thank you.' Clarke turned to Octavia, opening up a subject about her school. The girl seemed barely interested, then Bellamy nudged her on the shoulder. Abby watched them for a minute, her conscience still burning with the weight of Marcus' ex-wife. She looked at the empty bottle of wine.

Picking up both the empty bottle and her glass, she stood up. "I'll get a new bottle." No one paid any attention.

She sneaked into the kitchen and found Marcus by the sink, washing his plate.

"You don't have to do that." She said quietly, in order not to startle him. The lights were off, they were illuminated by the faint light coming from the dining room. She wondered if she should close the door, but she didn't want to shut the kids out. Besides, they couldn't see into the kitchen.

"You cooked, so the least I can do is to help clean." He shrugged, his eyes on his soapy hands.

Abby didn't know how to broach the subject. Deciding that more alcohol would help her cause, she reached for under the cabinet, pulled a new bottle. As she searched for the bottle opener, she noticed Marcus wiping his hands. Seconds later he was taking both the corkscrew and the bottle away from her hands. "I got it."

"Oh, thanks." Great. Now she didn't know what to do with her hands. She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. There was no better way to start this. "I'm sorry for bringing up your ex-wife. I had no idea."

"Ex-girlfriend." He corrected her. She watched as he set the bottle on the table and rolled up his sleeves. Her eyes were instantly drawn to it. He then picked up the bottle and started opening it. Every breath he exhaled sounded louder in her quiet kitchen. "I asked her to marry me three times, she refused."

"Why?" Maybe it was inappropriate to pester him with more questions, but he had volunteered an information, so she felt compelled to pursue it. A hunter after her fox; not to eat, but to capture.

He shrugged, his hands working the bottle. "Guess I should have known then that she was gonna walk out on me."

"When was it?"

"Right after Octavia was born. So I'd say sixteen years give or take." He took out the cork with a pop. She immediately reached for the bottle. He stopped her. "Let it breathe."

"What are you, a wine expert?" She teased.

"No, but I'd like to pretend. Makes me fun at parties." He chuckled.

And that was it… The first true smile they had given each other. He had the same smile as Bellamy. It took her breath away. She decided that she would take his laugh over his frown any day.

"How about you?" He located his own glass on the counter, before pouring them both some Merlot. "If you don't mind me asking… I heard Clarke's father had passed."

"Yeah, it's been six years. Car accident." Talking about it got easier as the years went by. Besides, there was something about this moment with Marcus, in her kitchen, that made her want to open up to him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was his sorrow that still gloomed over him. Faint, but present. "It's been tough."

He scoffed. "Yeah… I know how that feels like."

"How did you even manage?" She picked up her glass before bringing it to her lips. Her third, and she was beginning to feel slightly tipsy. "Toddler and a baby? By yourself?" Lord knew it was difficult to manage even one child, he must have been a hero for raising two.

"Well, as you can see, I didn't do much of a good job. Octavia never listens to me." He picked up his own glass. They were both leaning back against the counter, standing side by side. His eyes were lost in the shadows.

"Don't say that. Octavia is amazing."

He turned to her. "You really think so?"

She nodded. "Besides, she takes up after you. You're equally stubborn."

Marcus parted his lips in shock. "No, I'm not."

"Marcus, the last couple of weeks you made my life living hell. I might be tipsy right now, so excuse my French, but you are such an asshole!" She couldn't believe she was coming clean. Anticipation building up in her throat, she awaited his response. What if he was mad?

She could tell that he was taken back. However, it only took moments for the façade to melt away, and he started laughing. "Well, you don't make it easier by being such a bitch."

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the darkness, maybe it was his eyes… But she found herself starting to giggle. Then her giggle turned into a full-blown laughter. She raised her glass. "Then, here's to us… Being horrible, horrible people."

He clinked his glass against hers before taking it to his lips. She watched him sip his drink before doing the same. The kitchen still smelt faintly of turkey and wine. The glass was cold against her fingers. She could no longer smell him, probably because she was used to it.

Being used to his scent, what an alien concept!

"I don't mean to be an asshole…" He continued with a low voice, licking his lips. Her eyes flickered to his mouth. "It's just that… I can do my job really well, and I know hospitals. So many lawsuits could have been prevented if doctors just listened to me instead of Hippocrates."

"We don't like it when we have to take orders from someone who hasn't even been inside a med school." She defended herself. Her glass was halfway finished. When had that happened? Marcus was taking his time with his drink. She envied his self-control.

"You know… I was a pre-med in college."

"Really?" She turned to him with a newly found spark in her eyes. "I can't imagine you as a doctor."

"I can't either." He chuckled. "That's why I'm a lawyer."

"It suits you. Especially the suits." She felt a little dizzy, the kind that felt nice and welcome. Seconds later she questioned whether she had just flirted with him. No, probably not…

"You like the suit-" He was interrupted when Octavia walked into the kitchen.

"Geez, get a room…" The girl rolled her eyes. She knew that every time she taunted them, her father got incredibly flustered. She loved seeing him like that. It was rare.

"Octavia!" Marcus scolded her. "You need to stop it."

Abby found herself embarrassed once again. She took her last sip and picked up the bottle. "I should go back to the table."

The only obstacle between her and her anxiety over the conversation that had just taken place was pure alcohol. If she was sober, her mind would be busy trying to make sense out of what had just taken place. Instead, a content smiled played her lips as she walked back to the dining room. She realized that there were two sides to Marcus Kane. She was grateful for the exposure.

She could still hear him and Octavia from the kitchen. She pretended to pay attention to what Clarke and Bellamy was talking about it, but eavesdropping on a father and a daughter was not a conscious choice especially when they were talking about her.

"You need to stop saying those things in front of her." Marcus was doing a horrible job at whispering.

"Why can't you find someone like her?" Octavia replied, not really caring about keeping her voice low. "That Sally chick you brought home a couple of weeks ago was a disaster. I'm pretty sure she puked in our bathroom."

"I can't date Abby! What are you talking about?"

"Why not?" The young girl wined. "She's pretty and she listens to me."

"She's my boss!"

"You dated your boss before. What happened to Jess?"

"How do you even know about that?"

With a chuckle, Abby dragged herself back to reality. "What do you think Ms. Griffin?"

"Huh?" What was happening. It was now more difficult to gather herself, she briefly wondered if it had been a good idea to drink all that wine.

"I said me and Clarke could drive back to school together." Bellamy repeated himself. Clarke nodded enthusiastically.

"It would be nice to have someone keeping her in check. She never focuses on the road." She spoke knowingly. The dinner was almost over. Was it smart to clean up now or after they were gone?

"That's so not true." Clarke rolled her eyes.

She decided it would be wise to run the plates under cold water. The leftover turkey also had to go into Tupperware. "Whatever you say, honey." She laughed before picking up two of their plates and heading for the kitchen.

Octavia came out before Marcus did. "I hate dad." She stomped her foot on the ground like a toddler.

"You always say that." Bellamy spoke without even looking up.

Abby and Marcus met each other by the kitchen door. "You don't have to clean up by yourself, we can help." He reached for one of the plates.

"Of course not, you're my guests." She insisted with a smile.

"Doesn't mean we can't help, please." He reached for the plate again.

Suddenly Octavia's eyes widened in surprise. Seconds later shock turned into amusement, and she snickered, nudging Bellamy to look up, "Guys…"

"Octavia, stop whining and help Ms. Griffin clean." Marcus replied.

"Guys…" Octavia bit her lip. "You're under a mistletoe."

Under a what now?

Huh?

With a frown Abby looked up. Noo… Was that where she had put it? Octavia was right, a small mistletoe hung over their heads by the kitchen entrance. Well, that was stupid. She should have put it in the living room for Clarke and Bellamy. Now she had to kiss-

Wait.

"E-excuse me?" Marcus stammered. He, too, looked up.

Oh my God, this was a disaster. This was obviously not happening. She ignored her heart which apparently had the idea that they were running a marathon. They were _not._ Everything was FINE.

"Oh… that's uhm-" What was she even supposed to say? She had never been in those situations before. _Umm sorry I can't kiss my employee whom I may or may not like in front of our children when I'm drunk._

"We…" Marcus's breathing had sped up and he looked at anywhere but her. "We should leave soon."

"Dad!" Octavia interrupted their stammering catastrophe. "You gotta! It's a tradition!"

"Since when do you care about traditions?" He retorted.

"I gotta say, Dad…" Bellamy chimed in. "I'm with O on this one…"

"Mom, come on!" Clarke said with a chuckle. "Don't be a buzzkill!"

"I…" Abby was at a loss of words. She swallowed. Suddenly the plates were too heavy in her hand. She just wanted to put them down, run upstairs to her bed and never be seen again. She looked at Marcus for help.

He was still trying to process what happened. After a minute, he let out a deep sigh and gave up. "Fine."

No, this was absolutely _not_ fine.

"Marcus…" She tried to reason with him.

"Abby," He shrugged, reaching for the two plates in her hand. She only gave one of them to him… only because she couldn't care the weight of it anymore. "May I?"

May he? Was this really happening?

She didn't know what happened next but she found herself nodding. Her heart raced in her chest, she could already feel the sweat in her palms.

Marcus took a step towards her. He leaned down, she subconsciously rose to her tiptoes, her eyelids falling close. His empty hand rested on her waist. Her skin tingled. In front of three gaping teenagers, he planted the softest peck on her lips. God…

She felt as though she could burst. Her instincts told her to continue but he was already pulling away. Disappointment took over her.

Coming back to her senses, she immediately took a step back, leaning against the doorway. She told herself it was because she wanted to put some distance between them but in reality, her knees were weak. The worst of it all, his gaze lingered on her lips.

"Whoo!" Octavia shouted, bringing them both back to reality. "A bit too vanilla, but I'll take it."

"Nice one, dad." Bellamy cheered on.

Abby was too mortified to say or do anything. She nodded, licking her lips subconsciously. He tasted like wine. They made eye contact once again, and Marcus looked down.

"Yeah…uhm…" Marcus mumbled.

"Wait, do you guys hear this?" Clarke frowned, interrupting the moment Abby was currently busy drowning in. She was grateful.

"What?"

Clarke got up and went to the window. She parted the curtains and upon seeing the white mess outside, her eyes widened with shock. A snow storm had started, and their car was completely buried under white powder. It was impossible to go outside, let alone drive.

"I…" Clarke spoke in surprise. "I don't think you guys are going home tonight."

* * *

 **Thoughts and comments are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the wait you guys, I had a horrifying Evidence class I had to get through!**

* * *

"What do you mean?"

"You heard me," Clarke replied, still gazing outside with eyes wide open. "You're not leaving."

Bellamy followed his girlfriend's lead, holding up the other end of the curtain and peeking out side. "Holy… shit…"

There was a full-blown snow storm outside. Despite all the windows being shut tight, they could still hear the loud humming sneaking into the house reminding them of an ancient wolf howl. Abby felt a shiver down her spine; she blamed it on the cold, not the kiss.

Setting the plate down on the table –and completely ignoring Marcus in the process- she went to the kitchen window. Clarke was right. Their entire street was buried in snow. She could barely make out Marcus' car. Snow would need shoveling from her driveway the next day.

Seconds later she felt his presence next to her body. He gazed out the window in awe. "But it was barely snowing when we drove here."

Why did he have to stand so close to her? She could almost feel his breath on her neck. She was too busy with the feeling of him that she ignored his question, snow be damned.

"I'll take care of it." He headed back to the dining room, Abby let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Bellamy, take your coat and come with me. Octavia, you stay here."

"I'm coming." Octavia shrugged.

Marcus let out a deep sigh. "Abby?"

"Huh?" She knew she was supposed to pay attention. Clearing her throat, she gathered her thoughts. "What do you need?"

"Do you have a snow brush or anything we can use to scrape away the ice?" He was already by the door, reaching for his coat.

"Yeah, give me a second."

Her next minute was spent on blocking all her memories of the mistletoe kiss and focusing on finding the snow brushes that she knew she kept under her shoe rack. Jake had bought them, and he used it religiously every year, keeping the other one as spare. Sometimes Clarke had helped him. Abby would watch them from the window, grateful for the hot cup of tea in her hands.

Bellamy and Octavia grabbed the snow brushes before Marcus could. He just rolled his eyes and got to work.

"I'll help clean up." Clarke put a hand on her mother's shoulder. Then she looked out the window. "You think they're gonna get that car working?"

She shook her head. "I can't even see the car."

For the next hour, the mother and daughter watched the Kane family brush snow off the car. Marcus used his bare hands and an occasional key to scrape away the ice. Abby watched as he paused from time to time, bringing his hands to his mouth for warmth. She winced, not even wanting to imagine what the weather felt like. She only wished if the kids would come back inside, but she knew they're both too stubborn to leave their father alone.

Octavia was currently busy kicking the tires to get the snow off, Bellamy was trying to get the door open. "Dad, it's frozen solid!" Abby heard him yell.

She watched as he joined Bellamy in pulling the handle. It took them a few minutes to finally give up and walk back to the house with slumped shoulders.

"I'm freezing!" Octavia whined the second she walked into the house, followed by her brother and father. Abby held the door open for them as they brought the cold air into her house once again.

Bellamy was shivering so hard that he was practically jumping up and down. And as for Marcus… his hands and nose were the color of crimson. Did this man not have gloves? Or a hat? Or common sense? They were all covered in snow that began to melt away the second they faced the warmth of the fireplace.

"Doors are frozen?" She asked him knowingly.

He grunted in return, bringing his fingers to his mouth once again.

She closed the door behind them. Her hands were immediately on his shoulders, without thinking twice, she helped him out of his coat. He turned around with a soft expression on his red tinted face. "Thank you." She could feel the cold radiating from him.

"So, mom," Clarke snapped them out of their stolen moment, "They're gonna stay here tonight, right?"

"Of course," She spoke without giving it a second thought.

"Oh, no, we wouldn't want to-" Marcus started, taking a step back.

"You're not. You don't have much of a choice unless you want to walk eight miles to the nearest motel?" She replied with a gentle smile, knowing full well the answer to her question. Well… at least Octavia's answer.

"I'm not walking eight miles!" The young girl spoke like expected.

"Well… Are you absolutely sure?" Marcus seemed apologetic, looking around in her house, probably wondering if there was even space for them all.

"Get in before I change my mind." She pushed him into the living room, forcing her mind to sober up. Alcohol no longer had its hold on her, but she still felt a little dizzy. "Alright so, Clarke can sleep with me. Bellamy and Octavia can sleep in Clarke's bed. And you…" Her eyes landed on Marcus, she briefly wondered if she should make him hot tea, the man seemed genuinely frozen, "…the couch in the living room is a sofa bed."

"Sounds perfect." The man nodded gratefully.

"Haha, no."

Everyone paused and turned to Octavia.

"I'd rather die than to sleep next to Bellamy."

Bellamy frowned. "Dude?"

"Octavia, don't start…" Marcus sighed. This whole thing was familiar; he would ask her to do something, she would refuse, they would have a huge fight and Marcus would end up doing what Octavia wanted.

Octavia stuck out her chest in defiance. "Not only Bellamy barks like a dog in his sleep, he's also a spreader. All the pillows plus the covers, even the fitted sheets, are on the floor by the time he wakes up."

"That's…" Her brother scoffed, eyes on the ground. "…only _a little_ true."

"I can sleep next to Bellamy!" Clarke volunteered.

"Nice try, sweetie." Abby turned to her daughter. Clarke sighed.

"Bellamy will sleep on the couch." Octavia announced as though everyone expected her to make the right decision. "I can sleep next to Clarke."

Okay.. That was fine, Abby thought. The girls could bond, and Abby would no longer feel guilty over Clarke missing her friends when she visited. She mentally checked if they had enough clean sheets. That turkey still needed to go into Tupperware before they went to bed, she made a mental note. The fire had to be extinguished, and…

"Hope you're fine sleeping with Ms. Griffin, dad." The young girl threw both adults a sneaky smile. She had a certain kind of glimmer in her eyes that was reserved only to thieves.

Abby was just about to ask her why she enjoyed torturing her dad so much, but she stopped when she realized what this arrangement meant…

What?

"No, wait a second!" Marcus started before she could. "That can't happen."

"Well, it seems to be the only way." Octavia shrugged.

"We can't… I can't sleep with-" The man was a stammering mess.

"Next to." Abby corrected him without thinking. She had to admit, she got a little excited with the thought of sleeping next to Marcus… But not because of funny reasons… She told herself it was because she enjoyed talking to him now that she had seen a whole new side to him.

"Well, both!" Marcus replied, terror evident in his voice. "We're already imposing on Abby, we can't ask her to-"

"Sleep with her employee!" Abby chimed in.

" _Next to_." He was the one correcting her this time.

"Okay, you can sleep out on the driveway." She scoffed.

"Alright, stop!" Octavia replied. "I am not sleeping next to Bellamy, and unless you want to have grandchildren tonight, Clark is not sleeping next to Bellamy either. So, dad, you either sleep with… ehem, I'm sorry, _next to_ Ms. Griffin, or you can sleep outside like she said."

"It's fine."

"It's what?" Marcus turned to her with wide eyes.

"It's just one night, I don't mind." Abby found herself saying. An hour ago, she would have blamed it on the wine, but now she knew the alcohol had left her system. It was a conscious decision. Two adults could sleep in one room together, have a little chit chat, maybe laugh if they were lucky, and start the next day perfectly fresh and normal.

"You don't?"

God… what a stammering idiot.

"I'll make some hot chocolate." She announced before heading back to the kitchen.

"Abby? You mean it?" Marcus called after her. She just smiled in return.

#

The next day did _not_ start perfectly fresh and normal. Why? Well, allow me to take you back to the night before.

Abby had given Clarke and extra pillow and a blanket for Octavia, and she had helped Bellamy set up his bed who seemed eternally grateful. Snowstorm was getting stronger, they could occasionally hear the windows shaking. Abby just hoped they wouldn't lose power.

"Thanks for doing my dishes." She said as she walked into her bedroom, followed by Marcus whose steps remained timid. The night light shined golden onto her maroon bed sheets. With the mug in one hand, she reached out and closed the curtains, not forgetting to cast a glance at the midnight moon.

"You already did enough for us." Her soft carpets extended from one wall to another, the steps he took made no sound. He closed the door behind him with a soft click as though it had been hours since the children had gone to bed. Knowing Octavia, the girls were probably giggling in the room, talking about anything and everything.

She turned around, gazed at the man who stood closer to the door than to the bed. Finally left alone with him in her bedroom, she realized the gravity of their little situation. Saying she'd be fine with Marcus was easy, but now that they were in the room, she suddenly felt jittery. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

"I know this is a little…" She started, not knowing how to finish her sentence. Inappropriate? Unprofessional? Awkward? Weird? "…different."

"Look, Abby…" Marcus looked around in her bedroom, taking in all the details that she had never paid attention to before. "I can't thank you enough for letting us stay here."

She smiled before picking up the remote from her nightstand. TV would help. She needed some sound in the room besides their own voices. "Well, I wouldn't want my lawyer freezing to death."

"Really?" He chuckled, setting his mug down on the nightstand. "From the way you were acting this whole week, I would think you'd watch me freeze with a bowl of popcorn."

She paused. "Well, you don't make it easier to like you."

"All women like me."

"Not the sane ones apparently." She retorted, holding back a chuckle. She briefly wondered what she was supposed to wear for the evening. T-shirt and sweatpants sounded appropriate knowing she'd be sleeping next to her coworker… but she could never give up on her nightgown. Abby was one of those people that could never sleep with pants on.

"Is that a challenge?" His voice was lower, though still playful.

She let out the chuckle she was holding. "Absolutely not."

"Come on," Marcus stood by the bed. He was alien to her bedroom. She could tell that he didn't know where to sit or stand. The respect he had towards her personal space was an admirable quality about him that she chose to ignore. Repressing the memory of their earlier kiss was difficult enough. "You made us dinner, let us stay the night, and most importantly you convinced Octavia to go to college. The least I can do is to make you laugh."

"Is laughter guaranteed?" She replied. Definitely the nightgown… But which one? Marcus was cute but she was way too preoccupied with her evening appearance to take him seriously. Besides this was the hospital's new annoying lawyer, when was the last time she took him seriously?

"If not, you can sue me."

"For what?"

"Pain and suffering." He raised one eyebrow.

She held back a laugh. "Do you need clothes?" She changed the subject to something that actually mattered. "I have Jake's old pajamas."

He suddenly got serious. "Oh, Abby… No, that's okay."

She nodded, not willing to dwell on it further. It was her duty to offer, it was his duty to reject. "Right side?"

Both their eyes fell onto the bed. He had already placed his mug on the nightstand that stood on the right side of the bed. Abby was grateful, she didn't like sleeping closer to the door, but she wasn't about to tell him that… especially how that was Jake's spot.

"If that's okay…" He muttered, taking his wallet and keys out of his pocket. "I can also sleep on the floor if you want."

It was one of his jokes, right? Looking at his face, Abby realized that it wasn't. The man was actually proposing to sleep on the floor. After a beat of silence, she shook her head. "Right side is fine."

She liked the window side better. The TV had some kind of a news channel on. With a sigh, she picked up the remote to change the channel. Nothing was worth watching at that time of the night, she used the TV for its sound, not for its purpose. She paused when she saw an episode of Friends. Good enough. Then she turned around.

"Oh my God, what are you doing?" She immediately brought a hand to her eyes to shield herself from whatever indecency he exposed her to.

"I can't sleep with my shirt on." He replied nonchalantly as he draped his shirt over to the little sofa she had by the wall.

She couldn't help herself, it was an involuntary reaction. Her attention was on his body like a tiger after his prey. She allowed herself just half of a moment to took it all in; from his toned stomach to the hair on his chest, from his stunning arms to his eyes which seemed to be staring right back at her… That's when Abby snapped out of her trance. She ignored the smirk on his face.

"I'll go change…" She mumbled before picking up her nightgown and rushing to the bathroom.

Once the door clicked shut, she let out a breath she didn't know was holding. Her hand went to her wrist in a pointless attempt to diagnose herself with common anxiety. Her heart was racing. Embarrassment took over.

What am I doing, she asked herself as she took off her clothes and threw them onto the dirty laundry pile, cold and forgotten on the corner of her tastefully decorated bathroom. It's just one night. What can go wrong? So what he has an amazing body? A lot of people have amazing bodies? _I can just open up a Calvin Kleine catalogue and see plenty of men like him._

She slipped into her cream-colored nightgown. Nothing too revealing, but it wasn't monastery material either. The thin material ended just above her knees, and she told herself that she was only checking her appearance on the mirror because she happened to be in front of it. Her hand went to her hair. Then she scoffed, shook her head in disbelief, and walked out of the bathroom.

Marcus was looking down on his phone, the bright screen illuminating his face, disrupting the soft glow of her intimate bedroom. "Hey, the storm will continue all through the night, but we should be ready to go in the aftern-"

Then he raised his head to meet her gaze. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Abby turned off the bathroom light and made her way to her side of the bed, allowing herself to ignore Marcus' gaze on her. She felt compelled to ignore the fluttering of her stomach as well, and she found herself acknowledging that he was a man, and she was a woman. There was nothing more to it.

"Afternoon?" She completed his train of thought with a smile, knowing that the nightgown had the desired effect… Then she mentally kicked herself. The nightgown was for sleep and sleep only.

"Yes…" Marcus' voice was lower. "You have a lovely… I mean… That's a nice… nightgown."

"I thought you were trying to get _me_ to like _you_ , not vice versa." She couldn't help but tease him. She had caught Marcus Kane in a confused moment, who was she to not take him up on it? Besides, the man looked wonderful under her night light. She couldn't just let him have all the fun.

"My apologies." He cleared his throat, looking down at the carpet. "It is a sin not to compliment a beautiful woman."

It was Abby's turn to freeze. Her hand clutched around the comforter she was just about to lift to slide under. She let herself swallow before taking in his raw comment. "T-thank you." _Why are you stammering, god damn it, have you never been complimented before?_

"That falter in your voice tells me that you don't get complimented often." He approached the bed with a chuckle. The light played shadow games on his chest. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his side. His back faced her. She felt grateful for ceasing eye-contact.

"Patients do, sometimes." She forced a chuckle. It wasn't funny. She just pretended to make light of it.

"Patients like Mr. Denzel?" He smiled. "Isn't he the guy who comments on nurses' assets?" With that he took his pants off. It was so fast that Abby only caught half a glimpse of his black boxers before he slid under the covers.

She followed suit. "Mr. Denzel likes… women." The bed was cold. She immediately shivered. Her subconscious commanded her to slide closer to the man next to her for warmth. She mentally slapped herself.

"Abigail," Marcus had her attention in a matter of seconds. "You are an exquisite woman, and you deserve to hear that the first moment of every morning."

Time seemed to stop around her. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as she found herself completely and utterly hypnotized by the man who shared her bed for that evening. She could smell his cologne better now that he had taken off his shirt. She found herself with an intense desire to grab that shirt folded neatly on her dresser, inhale his scent, and hide it under her pillow for eternity. She did not do that. Instead, she fumbled like an idiot. "I… thank you…"

 _Oh my God, woman up!_

Marcus gave her a court nod before turning his attention back on the TV screen. Rachel had just landed a punchline. Chandler looked at her like an idiot. Abby felt herself strongly relating to the scene.

But then, she frowned. "Wait a minute? Is this you trying to get me to like you?"

"Of course, I want you to like me. You're my boss." Marcus shrugged, his eyes on the screen.

"No, I mean, _like you_ like you." She kept her gaze steady on his face, expecting him to keep up with her.

"Why?" He turned to her with a smirk. She tried to ignore him being half naked under the covers. "Would you like to _like me_ like me?"

"You're the one with _exquisite_ comments, so you tell me."

"I'm glad you find them exquisite." He winked at her. "Just like that kiss."

 _Oh._

She had completely forgotten the fact that she had kissed this man a mere hours ago. Suddenly, the fracture of the memory invaded her thoughts, her whole well-being. She found herself fighting a breath as she turned away and pretended like she was suddenly very interested in what was on TV. Nope, she was absolutely _not_ thinking of repeating that kiss in that very moment…

It took a few moments for her to gather self. And it took another few moments to be mad at herself for acting like a love-sick teenager. That's when she knew how to respond. "It wasn't _that_ exquisite."

It was Marcus' turn for disbelief. Leaning against the headboard, mimicking her, he found himself staring at the wall for a few minutes, blinking rapidly. Then he turned to her. "Excuse me?"

"What do you expect me to say, Marcus?" She shrugged, keeping her tone playful. "That my employee gave me a half-hearted forced peck under a mistletoe in front of our kids and it was the best kiss of my life? Well, think again."

She could see Marcus' open mouth from her peripheral. All she felt was pure joy and excitement.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh honey, I excused you a long time ago."

Marcus swallowed. "Are you calling me a bad kisser?"

Abby kept her eyes on her TV. "The word 'mediocre' comes to mind." Now she understood why Octavia liked torturing her father so much. Once one found their way under Marcus' skin, there was no getting out. The rest was a joyous ride; one which Abby intended to enjoy.

Her conversation partner of the evening was silent. She could feel utter confusion radiating out of the man. Abby pretended as though the episode was fascinating, kept her gaze strictly on the screen.

"I…" Marcus finally spoke. "I can't have a woman think that about me."

"Oh yeah?" She chuckled. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Marcus shrugged, but spoke in a determined tone. "Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"That I can take your breath away if I want to."

She let out a sigh, ignored the rapid beating of her heart, and retorted. "What are you going to do? Bring ten women to me who'll _testify_ how good of a kisser you are? Write a brief on it?"

"Hilarious." He replied. _His voice sounded deeper? Why? Why couldn't he just be… not attractive for like two seconds?_

"Hate to break it to you, but real life is not a lawsuit."

"No, but you're putting me on one hell of a trial." He crossed his arms. Abby tried to not glance at his chest. She failed. "And I feel compelled to defend myself."

"Fine, I'll play." She wasn't under the sweet influence of alcohol anymore, so she blamed the hot chocolate for her impulsive decisions. It had to be the damn sugar… "You're gonna kiss me to prove it? Come on, let's get it over with."

She angled her body towards his, giving herself a good excuse to finally take him in the way she wanted to ever since he took off his shirt. Her eyes matched his, and she dared to throw him a daring look.

"As much as I'm flattered, it doesn't work like that." He evaded her gaze, but she had a feeling that it wasn't out of fear. "One has to wait for… _the right moment._ "

Of course, he'd say that! "Coward," she scoffed, pretending like what he said hadn't really hurt her feelings… But then again, what did she expect? For her employee to just kiss her? In her bed? When their children were asleep down the hall?

She was definitely not acting rational. This was not normal. No, definitely not. What was she thinking? Why had she ever given up her idea of moving to Norway and growing tomatoes? If she hadn't, she wouldn't have been in this mess.

"Finesse is not cowardice." He replied.

"Is this what this is?" She gestured the two of them, her eyebrows raised in delight. "You finessing me?"

"You don't like it?"

"Can't say I'm a fan."

"Shame…" He shrugged. "Then you were never finessed properly."

She frowned in disbelief. "Well master, what does proper finessing looks like?"

"You wouldn't know it if it hit you in the face." He quipped.

"You keep that up, you're going to be the one getting hit in the face." She slapped him playfully on the arm, eliciting a chuckle from the man.

"That's okay." The walls of the room wavered under his magic. "I'll show you."

That was the last thing she wanted. Her control was already slipping away from her grasp in that stormy night. She hated to think her uncontainable flirting had pushed him into a mocking demonstration.

"Oh, I've seen it enough times." She changed the subject. "Nurses fan themselves every time you walk by."

It was his turn to be surprised. "You're just making that up."

"I've seen it." With that, she started mimicking the dozens of nurses she had seen pining after Marcus; some even married. She started fanning herself playfully, in an exaggerated manner. "Oh, it's Mr. Kane! He's sooo hot! Only if he looked at me!"

It was nice eliciting all this laughter from him. Abby found herself in awe of the man sitting up next to her, sharing her bed.

He replied once his laughter died down. His eyes found hers. "I'm looking right now."

God, if this was his way of showing her what finesse was, he was doing hell of a good job. Her throat locked away all the words she was ready to utter just mere seconds ago. The only thing she could manage to do was swallowing. Hard.

"I'm… I…" Why did he have to leave her speechless each time? "We should sleep."

"As you wish, boss." Marcus nodded, the ghost of a smile still lingering on his lips. He turned away, took one last sip from his mug and turned off the light.

#

Falling asleep had been harder than she had thought.

How many years had she been going to bed alone? How many years had she spent by herself, having only her comforter to keep her warm?

So, it had certainly been strange, having a person next to her. She had kept herself right at the edge of the bed, as though one sound, she would fall off. She had even thought of building a pillow wall between them, but then again, she hadn't want Marcus thinking that she was incapable of staying away from him... Or accusing him of the same thing… The latter was the worse.

Abby had fallen asleep hours after the lights were off. Whether Marcus was awake or not had remained a mystery. She had fallen asleep listening to his breathing; a fact she was too embarrassed to admit.

However… her morning at least… was delightful.

She regained consciousness by a delicious warmth surrounding her skin. It was a morning where memory didn't return for at least a few moments. It was one of those mornings; one of those mornings where she thought the man whom she vowed to spend the rest of her life with was alive.

So, she found herself snuggling closer to him, breathing him in, and wishing the morning would never end… Then she dared to open her eyes.

Jake did not have a stubble. No. Marcus did.

Oh no.

Marcus' eyes flattered open right around the same time as Abby's as though he had sensed the disturbance in the quiet morning.

It took them two seconds of a flabbergasted eye contact to jump out of the bed.

"What…" Abby started out, having the full intent to throw the blame on him when she realized it was _his_ side of the bed she had found herself in. So instead she opted for a quiet "morning", barely above a whisper. She tried to quiet down her panting.

Marcus looked equally confused. He returned her morning greetings with a silent one of his own, eyes more on the bed than her. Then he continued. "I... I'm sorry."

Between being enchanted by his half naked body, and his husky morning voice, Abby found it difficult to think. "Don't be." She replied quickly, then she swallowed, evading his gaze.

Marcus raised his head, meeting her gaze. "Really?"

"I should go." Abby said before heading hurriedly into the bathroom. Once the door was closed her eyes closed with it. Now, all she had to do was to stop the beating of her heart.

* * *

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